I am continuing to try to blog even though I fear what I am producing is little more than a ramble. Actually, I have a gorgeous recipe that I will try and post at the weekend (makes mental note). No pictures unfortunately - or fortunately if you consider my woeful food photography skills. Perhaps I shall headline it with a picture of the cat looking winsome.
I got on the scales this morning, out of idle curiosity, and was surprised to see that I've lost a couple of kilos (they remain set to kilograms for the time being although the temptation to convert to pounds is often too hard to resist). It's a slow drift but it is a drift down which is interesting. It got me to thinking about the whole diet treadmill thing. You know - you're either on it, and jogging along with everything going swimmingly, or you're flat on your black on the floor, having been violently hurled from the belt, and you're pouring molten chocolate into your mouth. Have I, quite accidentally, managed to stumble across the happy medium?
I spent the weekend with my young nephew and niece and my great wish for them (my niece in particular since it is often a female issue) is that they never get on that treadmill, because once you do it is always there. If they are wise they will follow my brother's example; he loves his food and his wine and his beer and always has, but even as a small child he instinctively ate in moderation and was naturally active. He has had his faddier moments - and I still don't approve of cottage cheese pancakes for breakfast (he is a fan of a protein rich diet) - but his relationship with food has always seemed to me to be pretty good. Me - I've feasted and famined, been fat and thin and probably always will be ever so slightly weird when it comes to eating.
Having said all that, the number on the scales this morning shows that when I actually stop thinking about it and try and act like a normal person, I do pretty well. Counting points makes it hard to be normal - and don't get me wrong, I know I need to count points to get down to where I need to be - but it gives me some hope that maybe when I get there I'll finally get that balance right.
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It may be a ramble but I enjoyed reading it, and they're all things I've thought about recently in fact. I'm basically convinced I'm never going to have a normal relationship with food, and as I'm getting to the "can't wait too much longer for kids" age, it really worries me that I'll pass on the issues to my kids. My mother without a doubt influenced my relationship with food/body issues, to a very negative degree, but COMPLETELY unintentionally. My sister just had a baby and remarked to me that she was glad it was a boy because he's less likely to develop an eating disorder. She's had her own struggles in the past too, but seems to have come to a relatively happy medium, so maybe there's hope for me yet.
ReplyDeleteSorry about that ramble of my own! And congratulations on the weight loss!